A Bad Dream
by amyniknak
Summary: Oneshot. Ron has been having a recurring nightmare, and during the trio's first night at Grimmauld Place, it happens again. RonHermione. Set during Deathly Hallows.


Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter, and although this story is my idea, the quote at the end is not.

A/N – This idea came to me after watching too many fan videos and Youtube, you know, the ones where either Ron or Hermione die. And then, of course, there is the wonderful bit in DH where Harry wonders whether Ron and Hermione fell asleep holding hands… and so, this little one-shot was born. Enjoy, and please review!

"Hermione, no!"

"Ron!"

He could hear her screaming, but somehow, impossibly, his feet were rooted to the ground. He wanted to move, to help, to save her from that hooded figure watching them, but he couldn't. This was it. It wasn't enough for You-Know-Who to kill him.

The hooded figure raised a wand, and pointed it directly at Hermione, his face expressionless apart from a glimmer of excitement.

"Rumour has it you're a clever little thing." Voldemort said. "pity to spill that sort of blood, even if it is…so… _dirty_."

Ron could see Hermione weeping, unable to fight back with her wand snapped in two and flung to the side. And he, the person who loved her more than anything, disarmed and helpless, forced to watch, watch this, watch her…

"Did you really think that you, a filthy mudblood, would be able to stop me?"

Hermione didn't answer, but instead turned away from Voldemort and looked straight at Ron, her brown eyes full of tears.

"Look at me!" the harsh voice screamed, but Hermione refused, her face white.

"Ron..." she breathed. "I – I…"

"CRUCIO!"

Ron yelled with her, as she writhed in agony a few feet away.

"LEAVE HER!" he yelled hoarsely, his entire body trembling and his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Voldemort turned to him, his red eyes glittering.

"Would you rather it was you?" he asked, his soft serpentine hiss echoing in Ron's ears, taunting him, torturing him, even though it was Hermione at the mercy of his wand, not Ron, Ron was in no pain, it was all her…

"NO!" Ron bellowed, and with supreme effort, broke free of whatever was holding him and ran to Hermione. She was still.

"Hermione, it's okay, I'm here, you're safe, I'm here…" he said, wrapping his arms around her as if it could shield her from Voldemort. Maybe if he stayed with her, it wouldn't happen, maybe You-Know-Who would kill him too, then they could stay together, maybe, just maybe…

"Ron, I'm, I, I'm so sorry…" Hermione murmured, her eyes closed.

"I won't let him near you…" Ron replied, his entire body growing cold as he stroked her hair.

"He's… he's going to kill me Ron…" she whispered, tears escaping from beneath her closed lids. "I'm so scared…"

"The Mudblood's right." Voldemort said dangerously, still keeping his wand aimed at Hermione's chest. "And there's nothing you can do…"

"No, please, please…" Ron begged.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"NO!"

And she was gone in a flash of green light, her eyes suddenly open and blank, her tears drying on her cheeks. Ron could feel himself screaming, but no sound came out, he was crying, Voldemort was laughing, she was gone, she was gone, she was gone…

And he never got to tell her he loved her, not even a kiss, she was gone, he was here, she was dead….

"KILL ME!" Ron bellowed, but the figure seemed to glide away, not hearing him, not listening.

"KILL ME TOO!" Ron yelled, tears running down his cheeks and dripping slowly and steadily onto Hermione's hair, her body so cold, almost as if she was sleeping. But she wasn't, Ron thought, she couldn't wake up now, and neither could he, not now, not from this terrible nightmare…it couldn't be happening, no, not her, please, anything, he would do anything…

Ron awoke drenched in sweat, shaking. He reached up to his face and discovered that he had indeed been crying.

Hermione was there, her eyes tired from lack of sleep and her hair trailing out of a messy ponytail.

"Ron, what's wrong? What is it? You were, well, screaming…"

"Same old nightmare…" Ron murmured, liking how Hermione's cool hand felt on his damp forehead.

"You're boiling!" she said. "D'you want a drink or something?"

Ron nodded, attempting to compose himself. He looked up at the dusty chandelier on the ceiling, his thoughts jumbled in his racing mind. How many times had he had the same dream now? Five, six? Always the same, always… Hermione so cold… He flexed his fingers. Just minutes ago, they had been in her hair, holding her to him, it had all been so real…

Hermione returned from the kitchen, clutching two glasses of cold water. Ron sat up and took the glass from her, and drained it in one.

Hermione sipped hers slowly, and Ron could have sworn he heard the glass chink against the mouth, as if her teeth were chattering.

"You're not cold, are you?" he whispered, careful not to wake Harry.

"No, I'm... I'm okay."

"I didn't wake you did I?"

"No, don't worry, I was already awake…"

Ron continued to watch Hermione as she drank. Her eyes were tinged red, her face blotchy. They sat in silence for several minutes, as if listening for the other's breathing.

Hermione put down her glass, and moved closer to Ron.

"So… are you going to tell me what your nightmare was about?"

Ron frowned for a second. He had no desire to tell her about the dream. For one thing, he didn't want to worry her, and then there was the whole theme of her dying, and although it was been terrifying at the time, it didn't seem nearly so scary when she was sat next to him, hugging her knees and looking at him with a concerned look on her face.

"Erm, well… it was about, um, the family ghoul, um, eating my pyjamas…"

Hermione giggled, in turn making Ron laugh, but quietly.

"That doesn't sound that frightening!" she said. And Ron was suddenly aware of her hand on his, making him suddenly awkward, and suddenly shy.

"It was…" Ron replied, unable to look away from Hermione, her eyes almost probing him. And for a second, Ron could tell that she knew he was lying, but it was okay, because she was here, and that was all that really mattered right now.

"So, why were you awake?" Ron asked, clearing his throat.

"I had a nightmare too…" Hermione replied in a small voice, deliberately avoiding Ron's gaze.

"What was your about?"

"Nothing really… just that, erm, well. It doesn't matter."

And Ron knew that she was lying too. He extended his arm to her, and pulled her closer to him. He began to stroke her hair, as in the dream, but this felt different, this was real, and the dream, well, it meant nothing.

"D'you want to go to sleep now?"

Hermione nodded, and lay back down on her mound of sofa cushions, never letting go of Ron's hand. She smiled, before closing her eyes. Ron stayed awake for a while, just watching her, how her chest rose and fell as she breathed, evidently asleep. After what seemed like an age, but was probably only a few minutes, Ron shut his eyes too, and fell into a soft, dreamless sleep.

"Harry woke early next morning, wrapped in a sleeping bag on the drawing room floor. Everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione's slow, deep breathing. Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him. Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands."

- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (pg 146 UK edition)


End file.
